


Indulgence

by Villefort



Series: Science Gossip: A String of Valerius/Valdemar Scenarios [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Courting Rituals, Mentions of Violence, Other, Slow Burn, it's about. the. hands. part 2, its about the intricate rituals too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28182981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Villefort/pseuds/Villefort
Summary: Valerius is shocked that Valdemar accepts his invitation to his estate. Valdemar takes it as opportunity to observe Valerius more intimately.
Relationships: Valdemar/Valerius (The Arcana)
Series: Science Gossip: A String of Valerius/Valdemar Scenarios [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064564
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place sometime after the previous piece "Tender" ~

Valerius was shocked when Valdemar accepted his invitation. They weren’t exactly…. close, and he had made it clear that he had only invited them to his estate. He had expected a cruel “No.” from them and then it would be done. Instead, now he was making sure all preparations were made for their arrival. They were “oh so excited to observe how he lived” or that’s what they wrote anyway. 

It had been a few weeks since the glass incident. Nothing much changed between them since then; their hellos were a bit more cheerful, and more than once Valerius caught those wide eyes locked on him. But other than that, nothing was new or alarming. He was…. disappointed. He knew he was being foolish, pursuing them like this. And yet his curiosity was eating away at him too much. He wanted to know them more… intimately if that was even possible. The others were all too bothersome to spark much interest for Valerius. Too loud, too needy, too _creepy crawly_. At least Valdemar kept their morbid fascinations locked away in their little dungeon. And they didn’t wiggle and crawl; they stayed dead in jars. 

Valdemar was a bit surprised at how sleek Valerius’s estate was. Polished floors, marble columns, neat, fine art paintings— for someone who would pursue _Lucio_ of all people, he certainly had a much more refined sense of taste. Even the servant escorting them wore a tailored uniform; nothing perverse, but clean, ironed, and straight. Very different from the uniform of those at the palace. 

He had summoned them on a very childish request; they had laughed when they had read open his letter. Something about noticing how dry their hands were, how long their nails were. Something about wanting to help them with it. It was… uncharacteristically bold of him. To not only comment on their body in such a way, but then offer them his services? They suspected that he was sure they would deny him, and had it been anyone else, they would have. But studying him at their meetings was growing tiresome and repetitive. They had gotten only a peek into Valerius’s true personality when they were alone together. The others were getting a bit… boring. Predictable. Everything was a bit boring now with Lucio out of the picture.

It had been some time since they had entertained themself with a human. They had nothing better to do anymore; why not indulge?

They were led to the estate’s veranda; it was not too dissimilar from the palaces, although smaller. They noted that Valerius was already drinking, something that didn’t shock them. They always wondered if he kept a steady buzz throughout the day, and if so, how he managed to accomplish anything like that. At hearing the pair step out onto the patio, Valerius quickly rose, keeping his expression neutral. He couldn’t look too eager, too excited at the fact that he wasn’t rejected. 

“Quaestor,” he spoke, a smile finally gracing his features. Valdemar noted how the servant quickly made their exit with a small bow. Grinning, they grasped Valerius’s hand in theirs, giving it a small shake.

“Your estate suits you,” they said, allowing Valerius to sit them down at the small table set out for them. Outstretched before them was a neat expanse of land. They noted larger willow trees that waved lazily in the summer breeze while a large fountain bubbled away. There was almost a certain melancholy to the scene that they made note of; that was something that would have to look into. “I must extend the same invitation to you some time.”

Valerius felt a bit too giddy at that; already there was the temptation of this happening _again_ , on their own turf.

“Thank you, Qua—”

“Please, we can shrug off those oppressive formalities. I’m in your _home_ , Valerius,” they smiled coyly at him, settling their chin onto their folded hands. They decided to dress more casually for this visit, swapping their usual uniform for a loose-fitting tunic, shawl, and trousers. They still kept their hands gloved and hair wrapped, though Valerius seemed pleased that they had dressed down for him at all. He was wearing a loose blouse, no longer sporting the many layers he normally wore to the palace. They noted how… smaller he looked, like a bird unruffling their feathers. His braid also seemed to be slightly looser, wisps of his hair catching in the wind. He looked quite relaxed, which was new for Valdemar to see. Even before Lucio’s exit, Valerius was normally tailing behind him, anxious to fix any messes that Lucio made. 

“Yes, of course. My apologies, Valdemar,” Valerius fumbled, his hands reaching for the end of his braid. A nervous habit, they guessed. They would have initially guessed he was trying to flirt with them, but they had noted how he would pick at his cuticles too at meetings that got particularly out of hand. “You know, I am quite surprised you accepted my invitation. I admit it is a bit… forward of me.”

“Nonsense, it is only suitable that we get a bit closer. We’ve been working together for some time, and yet I don’t think I know much about you. Other than your taste in wine, of course,” they giggled into their hands, noting the blush that crept up Valerius’s neck. “It only seemed fair, too. Can I see your hand? How has it healed?”

Valerius seemed startled at this. Right, of course. The very thing that started all of this. Hesitant, he offered Valdemar his hand, palm up. They gently pulled it toward him, one hand grasped around his wrist, the other bending his fingers back to observe his palm better.

“You took good care of it,” they murmured, eyes darting up and down. Valerius felt his hand twitch, still so unused to being inspected by those dark eyes. “There’s barely even a scar.”

“I have you to thank for that, really,” Valerius said. “If you hadn’t taken care of me or shown me what to do, I’m sure my hand would look much worse.” He laughed a bit at this, trying to tug his hand back. Valdemar gave it one last look over before releasing it, their fingers lingering a bit. 

“Yes, I did show you twice after all,” they mused, their eyebrow twitching slightly upward. Valerius looked away, instead sipping at his drink. They grinned, leaning their head on their hands once again.

“Do you want anything to drink? You know what wine I prefer, but I have no idea what you would like.” 

Valdemar waved the thought away, shaking their head.

“I don’t drink. I prefer keeping my mind as sharp as possible. I wouldn’t mind some tea, though. Perhaps something herbal?”

Valerius seemed to mull this over. For a moment they thought he looked upset at them, and they wondered if this was perhaps a deal-breaker for him. However, he quickly recovered, instead snapping for a new servant to come forward. They talked quietly between themselves for a moment before Valerius smiled.

“We have a hibiscus tea that may be nice for this evening. Though if you don’t like sweets, we can make ginger tea.”

“Hibiscus is fine; I am a fan of sweet things,” they smiled. The servant quickly retreated, leaving them alone again.

“That’s surprising. I should make note of that,” Valerius mused before sipping from his glass again. A comfortable silence filled up the space between them before Valdemar cut into it, gesturing to the contents littering the table.

“So, what do you have planned for me?”

Valerius seemed caught off by this as if he had forgotten what he had planned entirely. Recovering, he motioned towards the tools he had set up. A steaming bowl of water, nail-files of differing sizes, clippers, vials and jars of different oils and creams, and a clear case of what Valdemar assumed were different polishes. It _almost_ looked medical the way he had laid everything out for them, and they wondered if he was always like this or if he had done it for them.

“Right, I suppose now would be a good time to start while we have the light,” Valerius said, sliding the bowl of water between them. Valdemar could smell lavender wafting from the bowl. How fancy. “Can I see your hands?”

Valerius felt his heart flutter as Valdemar grinned and held up their still gloved hands. He was sure that they knew what he meant, that he wanted to see them bare. Valdemar noted the way his resolve seemed to harden before confident fingers slid up their arms, gently peeling their right glove off first. They were a bit taken aback by this, their own face heating up a bit despite themself. It was the reaction they wanted but weren’t sure they would get. With care, Valerius folded the thick glove before returning to their other hand. His eyes caught Valdemar’s as he slowly pulled the latex down, his knuckles tracing the skin of their arm. They held each other’s gazes until Valdemar’s fingers wiggled free, finally naked again. Like before, Valerius folded the glove neatly and smiled sweetly at them.

This confidence was new. He hadn’t behaved like this while they were alone before, but then again, he had glass piercing his skin. Wordlessly, he took both of Valdemar’s hands and laid them flat in his own palms, his thumbs rubbing at the skin on top of their hands. His eyes dragged up and down from their fingertips to their wrists, his lips slightly parted as he whispered to himself. The blush on Valdemar’s face didn’t fade; instead, they felt it creep up to their ears. 

“You have such pretty skin,” Valerius finally mused, more to himself than to Valdemar. “What do you do to take care of them?” “Care for them? I wash them frequently, I suppose. I normally wear gloves, but I still want to make sure I am thoroughly clean.”

“Mm, that makes sense. There’s hardly any dirt under your nails. What sort of creams do you use?”

“Creams? I use soap. And water.”

“Right, I mean after you wash them.”

Valdemar tilted their head, raising an eyebrow. Valerius seemed a bit perturbed by this, but he managed to keep a twitching smile on his face.

“So that explains it. Your skin is very nice, but it’s also very dry. You wash so often, I’m sure it strips it of any moisture. Is that the same for your face, too?”

“Do you want to see?” they said it so bluntly, Valerius barely registered what they meant. They leaned forward, eyes wide and expectant. It wasn’t a question but more of a dare. Valerius bit his lip, heart hammering in his chest. Still, he dropped their left hand to cup the other’s face. They didn’t react much other than a slight twitch to their lips. Similar to how he handled their hands, Valerius rubbed his thumb over the skin under their eyes, grazing their cheeks.

“Your face is much warmer than your hands,” he noted, bemused. Valdemar seemed annoyed at this, their brows twitching now. “But dry too. Though you barely have any wrinkles. I suppose you wash the same; soap and water and nothing else?”

They nodded into his hand; their eyes fixed on his. It was a challenge; who would break first? Valerius kept his eyes locked on theirs, his thumb inching just a bit closer to their chin, his nail grazing their lower lip. 

“Is there any other way to wash?” they said, voice low.

“It’s more of what you do after,” Valerius murmured, his fingers twitching around their face. Valdemar looked like they were ready to retort, but the sound of the servant returning interrupted them. Quickly, Valerius pulled back and away from them, folding his hands in front of himself as the young man served Valdemar their tea. Their eyes were still fixed on him, noting the blush smeared across his face. So, his confidence had limits. Relaxing into their renewed control, they thanked the servant and brought the steaming cup to their lips, raising their eyebrows at Valerius who was still recovering from being caught. He raised his empty glass, motioning for the servant to refill it. 

“Not in the mood to break it today?” Valdemar quipped, savoring the angry look Valerius threw their way.

“Perhaps later, once I’m done with you. Maybe this time you can join in,” he sneered, though there was a smile on his face. They watched as he rolled up his sleeves, noting the veins on his arms. “Can I see your hands again? Please?”

_Please_. That sounded nice coming from Valerius. Nodding, they brought their hands back to him. He looked them over once more before sinking them into the warm water. Valdemar couldn’t stop the small sigh from leaving their lips. It _did_ feel nice. They noted how Valerius rubbed and massaged their hands, focusing between their fingers and under their nails.

“I know you wash, but this is more to soften your nails and cuticles. You don’t tend to them, do you?”

“I don’t pick at them, no,” they said this a bit too defensively. Valerius looked _hurt_ by it, which wasn’t their intention. Shaking their head, they smiled at him, a bit sheepish. “I didn’t think I had to. Who taught you all of this, anyway? It all seems foreign to me.”

“My mother,” Valerius grumbled, his eyes downcast as he worked with their hands. “She always insisted that your hands told your whole life story. I think some people say the eyes are the windows to the soul, but my mother felt differently.”

“She has a point, I suppose. Your hands, for example, showed me quite a bit about you. Did you not do any sports as a child?”

“My father tried to teach me some fencing,” Valerius mused, that smile returning to his face. “But I was not disciplined at all with it. And my mother was afraid it was too violent, so my father let it go eventually. I much prefer to be a spectator than a player.”

Valdemar hummed, amused by this. Softly, Valerius raised their hands out of the water, quickly wrapping them in a plush towel and patting them dry. This seemed to be second nature to him, his eyes fixed on his work. Another sigh escaped their lips as Valerius smeared a glob of cream over their hands and confidently began to rub it in.

“Do you do this for others often?” they asked, trying to think of something other than how good it felt.

“I used to do my mother’s nails often before she fled the city. She was… never a fan of Lucio. Nadia let me do hers as well, though it wasn’t frequent.”

“Your mother seems like a very wise woman. Were you a fan of Lucio?”

The question was pointed. Valerius felt his face heat up again, his stomach sinking a bit. They tilted their head at him, egging him on. Their smile said all he needed: _Lie to me; I dare you_.

“Lucio is an… acquired taste. He was a fool when it came to being a leader, and his extravagance was grating.”

“But it was a taste you grew fond of?”

“Fond doesn’t seem to be the right word. I… _indulged_. I am not opposed to a bit of selfish indulgence, not when it can benefit me,” Valerius looked up from their hands, his glare icy. Valdemar smiled, their sharp teeth poking from behind their lips. 

“Your taste seems to have gotten a bit… grander. More risque. Are the benefits worth it?”

“Yes. One-hundred times yes. And you? We seem to have sampled from the same cup. Does it benefit you the same way it does me?” 

As he spoke, Valerius absently filed Valdemar’s nails. Each one was of a different length, though each was long in general. They noted that he filed them to a point without asking.

“Not exactly the same cup, but… yes. Though do not get it twisted: you and I are not the same. You are a pawn; I am a colleague, an equal.”

Valerius seemed amused at this, his brows raising a bit. Valdemar glared at him, annoyed that he doubted them.

“Unlike you, I never had to give my body up to anyone. Again, do not mistake us as being the same,” they whispered, their voice suddenly harsh. Still, Valerius seemed unperturbed, as if he was in on a joke Valdemar was excluded from. They raised an eyebrow at him, encouraging him to speak.

“I think we have very different ideas of what ‘giving your body up’ means. Your colleague and I talk, too,” Valerius said, his voice a bit sing-songy. Before Valdemar could snap back at him, he raised their hand up to inspect it. “How do you like the length of them? I know you wear your gloves when you work, so I assumed having them longer would not be an issue for you.”

With one last glare, they brought their hand back to themself to inspect it. They hated that he had done a good job; they weren’t sure of the last time their nails looked so uniformed. 

“It’s… good. I like the shape.”

“I thought so. Here, let me do your right hand now. Are you right-handed?”

“Ambidextrous. I write with my right, though. Why?”

“Some people prefer having shorter nails on their dominant hand.”

“Why?”

Valerius laughed at this, covering his mouth as he turned away. They glared at him before the realization dawned on them. Flushing, they gritted their teeth. They weren’t sure how they felt about a confident Valerius. He was equal parts amusing and aggravating. 

“You’re perverse,” they hissed, bringing their right hand toward him. “Do what you want.”

“Nonsense, it’s for work reasons! I suppose I’ll make them all the same length, though.”

“Do _you_ want them shorter?”

Another cutting question; another dare. If he said yes, then he opened himself up for being laughed at and rejected. If he said no, then he closed all doors of getting anywhere past _this_. 

“They are your nails. Tell me what you prefer,” Valerius whispered, his fingers locked with Valdemar’s. It was a cheap tactic of evasion, but he was grasping at straws.

“You did a good job of guessing what shape I would like. I leave it up to you.”

Valerius seemed slightly more comfortable with that answer. Valdemar noted the way he twisted and gently pinched their fingers between his own. The file felt a little uncomfortable, but nothing unbearable. Using their free hand, they sipped their tea as they watched him work. He was so serious all of a sudden, his brows furrowed. In the cool light of the lazy sun, he looked… younger. Not that he was old; his serious expressions at the palace did a good job at feigning age and experience. But like this, so earnest and eager, there was a boyish charm to him that Valdemar had never noted before. He couldn’t have been much older than thirty, younger than even Lucio and Nadia. 

_He’s going to be eaten alive_.

“How do you like it?”

Raising their hand up, Valerius coyly brought Valdemar’s hand in front of their eyes. They noted their pointer and middle fingers were shorter than the others. 

_I’m going to eat him alive_.

“Very good. What next?”

The conversation went by a bit smoother as Valerius pushed back and trimmed their cuticles. He noted the slight winces they made when he would cut a bit too close to their skin. He found it amusing that something as little as this seemed to bother them, but he tried to make it as painless as possible. They discussed how Valerius got along with the other members of the court, if he had invited any of them to his estate before. He laughed right out at this, even snorting a little at the thought.

“So only I have seen your home this intimately?” they prodded, leaning a bit closer. “What did I do to deserve the honor?”

“Well, besides taking care of my injury, I can trust that you won’t… oh, I don’t know, devour my entire kitchen. Or break my fine china. Or bring some sort of disgusting creature with you.”

“Ah, Vlastomil’s precious little children. They are great for botanical purposes, though they are boring to dissect. Very basic internal systems.”

“I’ll, um, take your word for it,” Valerius grimaced. “Wait, he calls them his _children_? How… repugnant.”

It was Valdemar’s turn to laugh, their face twisted into a wide smile as they wheezed slightly. Valerius couldn’t help but giggle, a bit proud of himself at getting them to laugh in such a way (and it not being at his own expense).

“It is rather unseemly, yes,” they sighed, a smile still on their face. “Are you done with this part? I must admit that wasn’t as relaxing as the other portion.”

“Yes, I’m happy with this. Now is the fun part though. Do you want a color? Or are you going to be boring and choose a clear polish?”

That coy smile again. He was getting too cheeky, but it was… endearing in some ways. Valdemar noted Valerius’s own hands and wrinkled their nose.

“Now isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black. What about your _boring_ nails then?”

“I don’t wear latex gloves everywhere I go. And I used to paint them different colors, but it…” his voice trailed off as he busied himself with grabbing different polishes. Valdemar tilted their head at him.

“It…?” they prodded, leaning closer to his face to observe his reaction. A renewed blush was dusting his cheeks.

“I think it gave the wrong impression when I wore it. You won’t have to worry about that, though. Even if people saw them, no one would ever take it as an invitation,” Valerius grumbled as he sorted the bottles in front of himself. Valdemar felt another question on the tip of their tongue, but they decided to hold back. That seemed to be a bit too touchy for the moment, though they stowed this new detail away for another day. Shaking his head, Valerius forced a smile back onto his face. “Now, choose one. I think these all best complement your skin tone. I’m a bit privy to these, though” he said, reaching for two shimmering bottles. “They work a bit like an illusion. In certain lights, they appear like one color, but in different lighting, they look totally different.”

This seemed to spark an interest in Valdemar. They plucked one of the bottles, a red one, from Valerius’s hands. They twisted it back and forth, noting the shift between a crimson red to a glittering gold.

“Do you like that one?” he asked, twirling a jade one in his own hand. “I thought it paired well with your eyes.”

“How thoughtful,” Valdemar mused, still observing the shift from red to gold. “Yes, I suppose I wouldn’t mind trying this one. If it’s ugly, I’ll simply wear my gloves.”

Smiling, they handed the bottle back to the Valerius and laid their hands down flat on the table.

“I’ll make sure to do my best then,” Valerius whispered before holding their left hand up closer to himself. Another bit of silence settled between them; Valerius seemed too focused on the task at hand to think of suitable banter between them. Valdemar was content to watch him work, noting how rigid his hands were as he slowly dragged the polish across their nails. They watched as his hair slowly fell in front of his face; Valerius made no move to adjust it, eyes so focused on their hands. Careful not to alarm him or nudge their occupied hand, they lightly brushed the hair behind his ear, their nails grazing his skin. Valerius flinched but kept his hands steady. They wondered if he thought he was about to be hit, and if so, why? Letting out a held breath, Valerius glanced up at them through his lashes, lips slightly parted. Valdemar felt their face heat up once again, hand frozen into place next to his cheek.

“Are you trying to mess me up on purpose?”

“N… Nonsense. I would gain nothing from that. I was simply… helping,” they whispered, furrowing their eyebrows. “Do you think that low of me?”

Valerius only smirked, once again breaking their eye contact to focus back on their nails. He noted how their fingers would nudge into his palm, even the ones not being painted, as if they were trying to get as much contact as possibly. He didn’t mind this; it helped keep his own hand steadier. He thought back to when they were cleaning his wound, of the small praises they would give him. The thought alone made his cheeks flush, his heart fluttering. _Good boy_. How many times had he heard that? And yet it felt different coming from them, felt _earned._

“What are you thinking about?” they cut off his thoughts, tone a bit playful.

“Do you know who else liked this color?”

“No. How would I know a thing like that?”

_You certainly act like a know-it-all_ , Valerius thought to himself. Instead, he simply smiled and answered them.

“Lucio. He thought the red matched his _aesthetic_.”

Valerius looked up right to see Valdemar’s disgusted expression; their teeth were gritted and upper lip twisted up. He laughed, pulling his hand back to make sure that he didn’t smudge his work.

“How awful, you little snake! Change it; I refuse to use anything that waste of space wore,” they hissed, snatching their hand back. This only made Valerius laugh harder. Without thinking, he grabbed their wrist and brought their hands back to him. Surprisingly, Valdemar let him, though they were still pouting.

“I didn’t think you hated him this much. Though I suppose I’m not sure how you feel about most people.”

“I don’t know how you stomached spending all that time with him. I would have to send the interns to look after him; if he wasn’t talking about himself, he was _whining_ ,” Valdemar shuddered at this, shaking their head. Valerius sighed as he finished off the other’s pinky. He quickly moved on to the other hand, worried they would grow more uneasy.

“I suppose I’m good at blocking out drivel. He really wasn’t much different than other noblemen. A bit eccentric, but—”

“A _bit_? You have seen that dreadful painting in the dining room?”

Valerius giggled, trying his best not to smudged the other’s thumb.

“ _Enough,_ you’re purposefully trying to ruin this.”

This was enough to silence Valdemar, but they were still clearly perturbed. Valerius chuckled, shaking his head as he looked back down. He supposed everyone simply tolerated Lucio; none of them seemed upset by his death. Of course, they were shaken the night of the masquerade, but for every moment after, they all seemed unphased, unbothered. He couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of them.

“We’re nearing as year since his death,” Valdemar finally spoke up. “And a year since our good countess’s slumber.”

“You’re a physician,” Valerius prodded, still not looking up. “What do you think it is? With Nadia. Will she… stay like that?”

Valdemar tilted their head, trying to read Valerius’s expression. Was it sadness or eagerness? They could not tell.

“When a hu- a _person_ experiences a trauma, it is not uncommon for them to faint. Women in particular are victim to this.”

“But she hasn’t _fainted_ ; she’s unconscious. It’s as if she’s—”

“Dead? Yes, I have noted that. My judgement would tell me this is no regular case of hysterics. It’s something a bit more… mystical.”

They watched as the cogs in Valerius’s head whirred. He really did make such cute faces when he was concentrating. When the realization dawned on him, they smiled at how wide his eyes grew.

“You don’t mean… _witchcraft_?”

“Who is to say? Doctor 069 _was_ seeing that fortune teller. Nadia as well. It was rather annoying how they distracted him so. Though now…”

“Yes?”

Valdemar’s grin spread across their face, their voice dropping to a low whisper.

“Now it seems a bit like plotting, don’t you think?”

Gooseflesh rose across Valerius’s arms. He couldn’t suppress the shiver running up his spine and had to pull his hands away to regain his composure. He had never considered that. He did not know Devorak well; they had met in passing between his visits to Lucio. Though he _had_ noted how close he had gotten to the Nadia… Shaking his head, he tugged on a strand of his hair, lost in though.

“That _is_ just a theory, though. Trauma does funny things to a person. Who is to say if Nadia wakes up or not? It would be prosperous for you if she didn’t, no?”

Valdemar reached their hands back for Valerius’s, encouraging him to continue. His fingers seemed a bit warmer, a bit shakier. He was anxious now. Speaking of Julian seemed to do that to him. Was he worried that the man would come back for him, the new acting count? They smiled at the thought, at the image of Valerius struggling against an exposed blade.

“That’s one way to put it… though it would be rather unfortunate, wouldn’t it?”

“Nonsense. Humans have risen to power through blood for ages. This would be no different.”

“Blood and deceit. I rather the latter; less messy.”

“Right, you do not like to get your hands dirty.”

Another blanket of silence fell between them, this one a bit less comfortable. Valdemar could tell Valerius wanted to say more, but he stopped himself. They wanted to prod more, too, though they had to force themself back. It would be no fun to rip back all those layers too soon. It was always so much more fun to savor each one, to slowly peel each one bit by bit. Even now, seeing the little flesh of his chest that was exposed from Valerius’s blouse, Valdemar couldn’t help but think of the beating heart that lay underneath. Of the trembling tanned skin being pierced by their scalpel. Of the sweet shrieks that would pour from those puckered lips. Oh, they would keep him awake the entire time, too. It was always so much more exciting as their prey watched their own body open up and—

“There! Judge them for yourself. Don’t smudge them though, I’ll notice.”

Valdemar was almost angry at how he interrupted their thoughts. Still, they forced themself to smile as they pulled their hands back to themself, curling their fingers up to themself. Right, first they had to keep playing these childish games.

Valerius giggled at the way their eyes widened as they twisted their wrists back and forth. He noted how their slit pupils dilated as they observed the colors shifting in the cooling light. He didn’t think he had ever seen their eyes do that before; it was… cute. Something he thought he would never describe Valdemar as.

“I take it you… like it?”

“Yes, surprisingly,” they said, eyes still fixed to their shifting nails. They wiggled each of their fingers in front of themself, a smile on their face. “What do we do now?”

“Well, normally I would use an oil for my cuticles. But we’d have to wait for your nails to dry. I suspect you are ready to leave?”

“Hmm? You’re not feeding me? My, I didn’t take you to be such a rude host,” Valdemar tilted their head, their smile becoming mischievous. Valerius blushed at this, his shoulders rising.

“I didn’t think you—”

“Pity, you were doing such a good job at guessing what I wanted thus far. Ah well, will you have me then?”

It was a loaded question, and yet they asked it with such ease. Valerius was beginning to grow weary of their questions; he felt a bit like he was back in school, anxious to get each one right, fearful of those disapproving eyes if he misspoke.

“If you aren’t through with _me_ , I would love to.”

Valdemar simply smiled and nodded, their pointed teeth seeming to glitter at him.

Valerius waved for the servant to return. He quickly sought to clearing the table with the other servant that brought Valdemar in. As they made their leave, Valerius made a point of instructing them to inform the kitchen to prepare enough for two that evening. Finally, he rose, Valdemar following his lead. He took a moment to stretch out his arms and back, groaning slightly as he did so. Valdemar noted the curves of his body and the small _pops_ of his back cracking. Honestly, it was a bit of a wanton display, but Valerius did it so casually it made _them_ feel indecent.

“I forgot how stiff that could be,” Valerius sighed as he relaxed his shoulders. “Though it was fun to do.”

“They are rather pretty,” Valdemar commented, still flexing and unflexing their fingers. “I would like to try the other color when this one wears off.”

More hints to this happening _again_. The thought made Valerius’s head spin a bit, but he tried to keep a placid smile on his face. He gently tugged on their elbow, leading them from the veranda.

“That is a good one, too. Nadia preferred it.”

“Must you spoil _everything_ for me, little ram?”


End file.
